I'll Come Back
by sumeshiryuk
Summary: Jane needs advice, and remembers a certain nanny of hers who always had all the answers. But her letter gets intercepted. Bad summary is bad. Much time travel and mindfuckery within.


(((A/N: For the purposes of this fic italics shall be used to indicate anything other than the present time. Basically there will be two time streams going on, the present in regular type and the other one in italics. The awkward part with 3 regular type passages in a row is intentional.)))

_The TARDIS jerked and lurched, heaving wildly as though thrown about by a storm. The Doctor clung to a ring attached to the center until it too was blown off, and he careened wildly about the room. Something was pulling the TARDIS off course, and it was fighting all the way. "Give up!" yelled the Doctor over the sound of his ship falling apart. "Give up, you stupid, sexy thing! You can't fight it! It got you before and it's got you again, just give up!" The TARDIS creaked and gave one last final spin, before giving itself over to the pull._

Jane had always been called nice. She supposed it was true- she was quite nice. She was kind, and forgiving, and she really did try to be a decent person most of the time. So she was used to it, being constantly dismissed as the nice one, the harmless one. But to have it given to her like an insult, as a justification, well, it hurt. She'd always thought it was a good thing, to be an honestly pleasant person. Sure, she had her moments of frustration, and in her youth she did admit she'd been a tad on the precocious side, but it had always been with good intentions. And now this man, this gorgeous, faithful, kind man, was telling her that they just couldn't work. Because she was too nice. Because she was too good.

She'd loved him, past tense because she wouldn't let herself admit she still did. She'd been all set to marry him and settle down, just as they'd planned, before this terrible conversation had fallen out of nowhere. "Why?" She had asked. "Why now? Why here? Why, why, why?" He'd at least had the grace to look repentful. "Because I don't want to waste anymore of your time." He'd given her a sad smile, the kind that hints at so much of its wearer but shows so little at all, and then he'd walked out of her life. She hadn't seen him since then, not even when the little parcel of her things arrived on the doorstep to her flat, wrapped in brown paper with corners as neat and perfect as everything he did. She didn't come to the door. In fact, Jane Banks didn't do much of anything at all. It was rather like being in shock, only it wasn't going away. She couldn't quite process it. It was just too much.

Sometime around the third or fourth day of her self-induced isolation, the phone calls started. Her mother, asking if she was well, and would she like to come to tea on Sunday? Her brother, inviting her to a horse race and trying in his own clumsy way to comfort her. Her father rang seemingly to ask after her finances, but she knew it was just his way of checking in. They wanted to help, all of them, and she did appreciate it. But they weren't what she needed. She couldn't stand the thought of her mother's quiet concern, her brother's awkward friendship or her father's facade of indifference right now. No matter how well they meant, it just wasn't what she needed. There was something though. It was like it was just outside her line of sight, a cure, a salve that would soothe her wounds, but she couldn't remember what it was. It was driving her crazy trying to remember.  
In the end, it was something her brother said that made her realize. He'd been calling for days, not as regularly as their father of course (he called each day at precisely 5:30 PM) but still quite reliably, especially given his personality. Michael was usually a bit of an airhead when it came to this kind of thing, so she really was quite touched at how hard he was trying to cheer her up. He'd started leaving messages, when she didn't answer the phone, and at first they'd just been the normal consolations- "It's gonna be okay, Jane." "You've got us Jane, your family, we still love you!" – but after a week or so he ran out ideas. Determined to get her talking again, he'd merely switched his tactics. Now she got long, rambling messages, not saying much of anything but informing her of the goings-on of the family and his job, and the general outside world she'd been ignoring. Jane still didn't reply, but she did listen to the messages. Even when they were an hour and a half long (he'd call back and leave another one when the timer ran out).

One such message happened to lapse into reminiscence, and as Michael rambled on about their childhood she finally found the memory she'd been searching for. A woman, young-looking but with a matronly air about her that could normally only be found after a significant number of years. She wore fashionable clothing, her dark hair wrapped tightly in a bun at all times, and carried an umbrella and a carpet bag. She remembered someone- perhaps Michael, had asked if this was a bag used for carrying carpets. The woman had merely laughed, and told him not to be silly- it was made of carpet.

Yes, this woman! Jane had only been around ten at the time, but she still remembered it quite clearly, now that the first impressions had come back to her. Marry Poppins. One of a long, exhausting chain of nannies her father had hired for her and Michael. They'd delighted in fooling all the rest, but this one woman had made such a difference on her life. She'd reformed the entire family, and Jane was at loss to explain how she'd ever forgotten about her.

Marry Poppins had been a miracle worker, in all senses of the word. Yes, she'd led them into the worlds of a sidewalk picture, showed them how to clean their rooms with just a snap of the fingers (she could still do it, if she concentrated hard enough), and somehow slid up the banister, but those were only the palpable changes. She'd done more, so much more, for the family itself. After she'd left Jane's mother had smiled more, her father had spent more time with them and she and Michael had stopped hazing every new nanny they got (for the most part). Mary Poppins knew how to fix things that couldn't be seen. And that was just what she needed right now.

But how to find her? Jane frowned, trying to recall the details of the day before her favorite nanny had arrived. It was so long ago, nearly twenty years now. Try as she might, she couldn't quite remember, and at last she was forced to resort to calling her brother. Michael didn't have much of a head for numbers or letters, but occurrences he remembered like a tape recorder, scene by scene and word for word. She reached for the phone and grudgingly punched in the plastic numbers. Michael picked up on the first ring.  
"Jane! Finally! Have you come to your senses yet?" Michael was not known for his tact.

Jane's sigh could be heard through the line, just as clear as if she'd been there in person. "Michael, I never lost my senses. I just didn't want to talk to anyone. In fact, I still don't want to talk to anyone."

"Then what are you calling me for?" asked Michael. He sounded puzzled.

She paused for a minute, collecting her thoughts. She could almost hear her brother's anxious curiosity on the other end of the line. "Do you remember Mary Poppins?" she asked at last.

"The nanny we had who could do all the tricks? Sure! How could I forget her?"

I almost did, thought Jane, once again puzzled at the lapse in her memory. She pushed it aside for now, though. She needed to ask Michael what he knew.

"Do you know… I mean, did you ever figure out why she came? Why then, on that specific day, to our house? Do you have any idea?" Unconsciously she drew in a breath, holding it in her lungs. If he didn't know, she'd have to give up. She couldn't say why but she got the feeling her parents had forgotten just as she had, and maybe more so. Asking them would be useless.

"Actually, I think I might," said Michael thoughtfully. "Remember the day before, we'd just run out on our last nanny and she'd quit in a huff, and so to be helpful we made a list for Father and Mother of what we'd like the next one to be like?"

Jane nodded, and then realized he couldn't see her and mumbled a hurried "mhm" into the receiver.

Michael continued, "Well, you went up to the bedroom after that, something about a book you had to finish I think, but I stayed behind. Father tore up our list, I remember seeing that, and chucked it in the fireplace. And then the strangest thing happened, only it didn't seem so strange compared to the next few days so I'd almost forgotten about it til you asked. The pieces flew up the chimney. All the way up, I think, I know I never saw them come back down. I think she must have gotten it somehow, because wasn't she just what we'd asked for? Even all the little peculiar things we put down for a lark."

It was true. They'd only read about half the letter aloud to their parents, and the other half had included things like "enjoys merry-go-rounds just as much as I do" (by Jane) and "makes all the food I hate taste good" (by Michael). And she'd done it. Marry Poppins had be exactly what they'd asked for, so much so that she had to have gotten the letter somehow. And that meant there was a way to contact her. Jane felt the constant block of helplessness that had been living in her gut for the past week lift a bit, giving her room to breathe. She could almost hug her brother in excitement, but instead she said her thanks and a hasty farewell and sat down to begin penning a letter.

_He felt the ground shake under him as he landed. His hands skidded on what felt like bricks and his mouth filled with the unpleasant taste of dust and paving stones. "Definitely bricks," he told himself, tasting the distinct reddish coloring of old style pavement. "Now," he pulled himself up to his feet and dusted off his pants, finding they'd changed since he'd last laid eyes on them. "How long til she shows up?" He patted himself up and down, finding a grimy ribbon around his neck and a flattish sort of cap on his head. "Hm, nice. Quite nice in fact. I think I rather like the ribbon look, I'll have to find one once I get back." Something rattled near his feet and he looked around him for the first time, finding an odd assortment of instruments attached with bits of metal and wood. He'd hit it with his foot while he checked his clothes. "Aha! A one-man-band! Always wanted to be one of those."_

Dear Mary Poppins,  
I feel foolish just writing this, but I need your help and I have no idea how else to find you. I don't even know if you remember me, do you meet many families like this? Anyways, you said you'd return if we ever needed you again, and though I know I'm just being foolish I wish I could talk to you now, so if you get this, please do come. Thank you for all that you've done for my family in the past.  
Sincerely,  
Jane Banks

She read the letter over once more. It seemed well enough. Anyways, she doubted it had to be the highest-grade literature, the last letter they'd sent had been written by a pair of children. After a moment of hesitation she carefully ripped it in half, and then quarters, and then, growing bolder, began to shred the thing in earnest. Once she had a neat little stack of fragments, she made her way around the coffee table and couch to reach the fireplace. Here she paused again, telling herself how foolish she was being for trying this, for believing it, for even thinking she needed it in the first place. But it was all she had, and she knew she needed something, so with cautious fingers she dropped the pieces one by one onto the ashes of yesterday's fire, and stood back to wait.

_It hadn't taken long at all to work out which wires to pull to work the drum and which string to pluck to carry a tune. It was much like the instruments he'd had in his first incarnation on Gallifrey, he mused, the thought at once painful and comforting. He'd started playing it on street corners for change, just for something to do. It felt odd to be without the TARDIS after so much time traveling together. He knew it'd meet him here eventually, but it made him slightly twitchy all the same. He found himself more easily distracted, flying off into long winded lectures at the slightest happenings. He wished it would get here soon._

The TARDIS was an old thing. It was not precisely in the best of conditions, inside or out, and was starting to show a little wear around the edges. So it was no surprise, really, when it started to clunk a bit, with the occasional rattle or whirr thrown in for good measure. The Doctor wasn't really worried, at first. They'd been through worse together, and it's not like there was an army of Daleks looming on the horizon at the moment, so he wasn't overly concerned. But after a time it became more noticeable. The clunks were louder, the whirrs were longer, and the emergency Christmas lights were flashing turquoise. He'd found several lone screws rolling about the floor, as if the machine was coughing up parts. And it wasn't listening to him. He'd been trying to get to Cassion 8, a small mining colony perched atop an asteroid perilously close to the local sun, and he'd been flying straight towards it until suddenly he wasn't.

He tried everything. He spun the wheels, pulled the levers, screwed and unscrewed a trapdoor he'd never noticed he had, and flew about the place tweaking everything that could be tweaked, but nothing worked. At last he was forced to give up, and for lack of better options he sat himself down in a corner and began to sulk. The Christmas lights flickered on and off and came back periwinkle blue.

It wasn't until a day later that something happened. Jane had just begun to think it'd all been useless when there was a distinct thump from the hall outside her flat. It was followed by some scuffling and a few tings and crashes, and then there were footsteps and a sharp rap at her door that startled her out of her chair. She hurried over and pulled it open, wishing for Mary Poppins and half expecting the garbage man, and was thoroughly confused when she got neither. At least, I don't THINK he's the garbage man. Garbage men don't usually wear funny little hats, do they?

"Good morning," said the man, holding out his hand and apparently ignoring the setting sun. "I'm The Doctor. I wasn't planning to come here but apparently here needed me, so what can I do for you? You managed to call the TARDIS all the way off course, so I suppose you must know me, but I can't say you look familiar…" he trailed off, peering intently at her as if some minute detail in her skin could answer his questions.  
Jane stared blankly back at him. "What's a tardis?"

_It felt rather, this incarnation. He hadn't died, persay, so it wasn't a true regeneration, but he wasn't exactly alive either, not in the traditional sense of the word. He was just a little off. Like if you took 'alive', and then shifted slightly to the left and looked off into the distance. He didn't really mind it, but it did take some getting used to. He spent a few days slipping in and out of true reality, unable to control his physical form with the precision it was accustomed to. Eventually he got the hang of it though, and it made quite a neat little trick. He'd just have to switch his thoughts around a bit, and whoops! He'd slip straight into the paving stones and fall through to wherever he wanted to be._

"It's like a ship," the man in the strange hat was explaining, "except it doesn't go on water. It goes on time, and space, and all that wibbly wobbly stuff out there in the universe. But if you don't know me, and I don't know you, then how did you call me? How did you send out a call strong enough not just to reach me but to reroute the TARDIS itself, no one should be able to do that. How did you do it?" He was peering at her again. She decided she really didn't like the peering. It made her feel tiny and insignificant, like she was on the wrong end of a microscope and he could see her every cell.

"I wrote a letter," she replied simply, figuring it was best to be honest. Really, if you asked Jane, it was always best to be honest. She was a very truthful person. Just another part of her 'niceness' she supposed. She swallowed down the hurt that welled up with that thought. Stop thinking about it. At least this man was providing a distraction.

"A letter… oh!" The man abruptly turned, fleeing into his TARDIS (it looked a lot like a police box to Jane) and evidently causing quite a commotion inside, if the noises drifting out the partially open door were to be believed. Jane hesitated, then took a tentative step forwards towards the thing, pulling the door slightly more ajar. Inside it was like nothing she'd ever seen. Dials and levers and buttons decorated every available surface, there was a very impressive looking tubular object running straight down the middle and for some reason a set of Christmas lights, glowing salmon pink. And it was big. Far bigger than it had any right to be, judging from the outside. Jane was about to remark how this couldn't be, but then she remembered something Mary Poppins had said, in regards to her own mysteriously spacious belongings: "Never judge anything by it's outside. Even carpet bags."

_He'd been grounded here for exactly four weeks before she caught up to him. He could feel her on the wind. Kicking at the pavement a bit, he started to play his instrument again. "Winds in the east, mist coming in. / Like somethin' is brewin' and bout to begin. / Can't put me finger on what lies in store, / But I fear what's to happen all happened before."_

"Is it this?" the Doctor had emerged from some corner or other, holding what appeared to be a help-wanted ad cut from the paper. She took it doubtfully- after all, she'd never posted her letter anywhere but her fireplace. But when she read the words, they were the same. "Dear Mary Poppins," she read in amazement. "But how did you get this? And how is it in the papers?"

"Oh, I don't know about papers," said the man, "but as for how it got in this thing," he plucked the newsprint from her fingers and waved it in front of his eyes, "it probably came too close to the TARDIS' core. The TARDIS is meant to blend in, you know, shapeshift to match the world around it. This one's a little clunky, so she got stuck as a police box a while back when I was visiting Earth, but she's still technically trying to blend, and therefore emitting a small field of blend-ness to encompass her. Your letter must have gotten caught up in the engines and conformed to the field, hence the newspaper. I found it in my breakfast this morning, funny thing, just sticking out of the cornflakes like it wanted to be seen. But the TARDIS had already rerouted here so I suppose it'd been with us for a while before that. It was just a courtesy of it to drop in on me, it seemed very uncaring whether I made it or not. I almost got thrown out at one point, damn thing. It really just wanted the TARDIS. No idea why."  
She stared at him again, trying to find something to say other than "what?" or "huh?"

"I must say you're taking this rather well though," he said, looking impressed. "Although I supposed the sort of person who posts letters through their fireplace might be a little more inclined towards this sort of thing."

"What? No! I don't post- I mean not usually- not except just now! And that's only because that's how it worked last time!" Jane squeaked. She didn't want him thinking she was loony.

The doctor paused his fluttering of the paper. Suddenly his gaze was back on her, and he was peering again. "Say that again."  
Jane wanted to back up but felt that would have been rude. "That's how it worked last time?" she asked tentatively.

His gaze got even more intense. "Last time. Last time? I don't remember a last time. And your letter was for a Mary Poppins, whom I am clearly not… Tell me. Everything you know about her. Start at the beginning, who is she? Who is Mary Poppins?"

_ Once the she had shown up everything moved very quickly. He'd gotten a job as a chimney sweep (chimney sweeps knew everything, he'd always said), and spent the days he was out of work drawing chalk doodles on the pavement at the park. Occasionally the she would visit him, in her temporary form, and they'd have a grand old time. The kids, Jane and Michael, were great fun to watch over, and they liked him, or at least the persona he'd adopted when he'd gotten here. There was no point in being a chimney sweep if he didn't act the part. Mary, for that was her new name, took great pleasure in bossing him around, just as she'd always done but so much more efficient now that she could talk. He'd miss her conversation when she changed back._

As Jane explained just who Mary Poppins was (not as though she knew, she'd barely known her for a week) the Doctor looked more and more bemused. He seemed nonplussed at the mentions of magic- the stairs, the carpet bag, the self-cleaning room- but it was clear that her explanation was doing nothing to alleviate his confusion, and she wished she had more she could tell him. Then she realized- she didn't, but she knew who did, even if she didn't have the slightest clue where to find him. Something told her finding people wasn't a problem for this man.

"The chimney sweep."

"What?" the Doctor looked even more confused.

"The chimney sweep. He knew her, they had a history together I think. His name was Bert. If you want to know who she was, I'd try talking to him."

"Huh. Well, nothing like a little jaunt to get the gears working again, eh girl?" he asked, turning to pat the TARDIS affectionately on its side. "Thanks for all your help, Ma'am, we'll just be off now. Gotta find this Bert fellow." He opened the door and put one foot in before she caught him.

"I'm coming with," she said, grasping his coat in her hands. "I wanted to talk to her again, that's why I sent the letter, and if you're trying to find her I'm coming with." She stared determinately up at him, daring him to deny her.

But he just gave her a measuring look, shrugged, and said "all right, c'mon then," and continued through the door. She'd been expecting more resistance and was rather caught off guard by his sudden compliancy, but she wasn't one to take an obvious gift for granted. She hurried to cross in after him, and was barely surprised when the door swung shut on its own.

_ "It's about time now," said Mary Poppins, seated primly atop a grimy park bench. Bert nodded. The children were playing nearby, something to do with ships and pirates from what he'd overheard. "I remember how you looked that day- so surprised. You'd think you'd never heard of a little mix-up in the timestreams before."_

_ "I wasn't expecting it," he said, carelessly sketching at the ground with the chalks he kept in his coat pocket. "It were a surprise, is all."_

_ She smiled benevolently down at him. "No, you weren't were you. And that was truly a treat to see." There was a slight noise, and she turned to face it, the smile on her lips growing wider but no less prim and proper. "They're here, Bert. It's showtime."_

It hadn't taken him long to lock on to Bert, and Jane was secretly quite impressed. She'd have no idea how to go about looking for him, so she supposed it was good she'd met this strange man in the hallway. At least her letter had gotten her somebody helpful, even if it hadn't made it to Marry Poppins herself.

"That's odd," said the doctor, frowning.

"What is? Anything being called "odd" by you is rather concerning, especially when we're already flying through space."

The frown deepened. "But that's just it. Its not just space we're going through, it's time as well. See this dial here- no, this one- it's showing how many years we're losing. We're going to the past. But if he was dead, we'd just go to his grave in the present time. So this Burt fellow must have stopped existing right after you knew him. And that's a tad weird."

"Stopped existing?" she asked, not quite able to grasp the concept.

"Exactly. Not death, not travel, just a cessation of existence. This chimney sweep's becoming more and more interesting by the second."

Jane thought about that. "He seemed fairly normal at the time, but I suppose that's because I was comparing him to her. And everyone seemed normal compared to her."

The TARDIS made a slight whumping sound.

"Ah, we're here," said the Doctor. Let's see where we are, shall we?" He took her by the arm and led her outside, and she found herself in the park she used to play in as a child. In fact, she was still playing in it as a child. She could see herself, at 10 years old, playing pirates with Michael on a wooden picnic table. She looked to her child self's left, and there, perched upon another table and looking collected as she remembered her was Mary Poppins. Bert crouched next to her, clearly in the middle of a chalk drawing but for whatever reason he'd looked up. They both had, in fact, and as she and the Doctor drew nearer she started to wonder at the near identical, knowing expressions on their faces. She looked up at the Doctor, silently questioning, and found the same look of mild perterbment on his face. "I sense a time lord," he said. "One of my people. But that's impossible, they're all dead except for me, and why would one be here?" They reached the bench, and Marry Poppins stood to greet them.  
"Hello, Doctor," she said, smiling indulgently at his obvious confusion. "Recognize me?"

_ The doctor looked like he couldn't tell which way was up anymore, and Bert knew his companion had to be loving it. She enjoyed his discomfort. Taking pity, he stepped forwards. "Doctor. I'm known here as Bert, but you know me much better than that, don't you? We know me much better."_

_ It was as if he'd flipped a switch, and suddenly the Doctor understood. "You're me," he gasped. "You're me, and that means Marry Poppins, with her primness and her teasing and her bag that's bigger on the inside, you're my TARDIS! My sexy, sexy TARDIS, oh you do do human well, don't you? Look at you! And you!" he said, turning to Bert. "I always wanted to try sweeping chimney's. And that cap looks quite dashing on me, if I do say so myself."_

_ "I'm rather fond of it, I'll admit," said Bert._

_ "Oh, this is splendid!" cried the Doctor. "No wonder we ended up back here, you don't exist anywhere else because you don't exist at all, not as an individual! You're a construct of me, and it couldn't very well take me to me."_

_ "I'll have you know that I am not an "it," said Mary Poppins sternly, "and I will not tolerate being called one." She crossed her hands neatly over her lap, studiously looking anywhere but at him. The doctor seemed delighted at her scolding._

_ "But what's going on?" asked Jane. "How can you be my nanny AND that, that magical time box?"_

_ "Oh, well that is the question, isn't it now," said Bert, grinning at her._

_"May I do the honors, madam?" He asked, turning to Mary Poppins for permission._

_ "Be my guest, I'd rather hear you tell it than explain it myself."_

_ "Right. Well, in matter of fact, and as you can clearly see, myself and this fine looking gent over there are one and the same person." He paused to gesture vaguely at the Doctor. "But we don't have possession o' the same features, you know? And the lovely Ms. Poppins here doesn't look a thing like she does over there." He pointed Mary Poppins graceful figure and then the TARDIS' decidedly blue, boxish one for emphasis. "It's on account o' the merging-factors, the whatchemacaits-"_  
_ "The blendyness field?" cut in the Doctor._

_ "'At's a one! The blendyness field! It's gettin' a little fritzy in it's old age, no offense meant o' course, you look mighty fine even now," he said hastily, backing away from Mary's icy gaze. "When we landed here, she went hurtlin' off again, out there to the cosmos to noone knows where, but not before a burst of it went off and changed me-me! To look like my surroundings. I fell down all nice and tidy with a hat and a drum and everythin'. And when she got here the same thing happened, she got hit by her own merging factor- blendyness field, whatever ya choose to call it, and turned into one fine-looking woman, I think we can all agree." Mary smiled at this, her lips curving upwards just the slightest bit at the compliment._

_ "As for why we're here in the first place… See those pretty little children over there? The boy and the girl, precious kids, so full of energy and goodness. Well, they weren't having an easy time of it, family troubles and all, and they just so happened to be sitting smack on top of a time leak."_  
_ "A what leak?" asked Jane, feeling more lost by the minute._

_ Bert laughed. "You must be mighty confused, young lady," he said. "First, let me tell you, time's not a straight line. It never was, never will be. Its squiggly, like that road down there in the chalk." He pointed to the picture in question, and Jane nodded hesitantly. She could understand so far, she thought. "Well, turns out time's kinda like a sewage system," Bert continued. "Lots of crisscrossing pipes and manhole covers. And some of the pipes, well, they're getting on in age and they've collected a fair bit of rust. Some of them develop, as you might say, holes. And that's when you get a time leak. Now, normally this isn't much of a problem, that's what we have time agents for. But this one didn't get plugged right away, and when Mr. Banks ripped up the list of nanny qualifications his children had so lovingly written out for him, it got sent down, or rather, up, the leak. The TARDIS is rather sensitive to leaks, being a time-based vessel itself, and also tends to pick up on emergency calls and the like, so we got the letter right quick and it sucked us all the way here, only there was a bit of a bump and I arrived about a month early. But all's well that ends well, I suppose," he said, smiling widely at her._

_ The doctor had been nodding along, and now he turned to look at Jane. "The transformations I get, the time leak I should have thought of, but why did I end up in her hallway? What has she got to do with any of this?" To his surprise, it was Jane, and not Bert, that answered his question._

_ "You didn't notice, Doctor?" She asked, glad to finally be the one with the answers. "That's me, over there, playing with my younger brother. He was such a brat at that age," she said, remembering it fondly._

_ "The time leak was closed ages ago, but I'd imagine some of it must have rubbed off on her while she was living on it," explained Mary Poppins. "That's why the second letter worked. To answer your next question, yes, that is also why you couldn't remember me until Michael reminded you, and why your parents probably still wouldn't even if I were to show up on their doorstep right this moment. Time leaks are funny things, and they tend to effect children more. Michael was the youngest, and so he had more exposure than the rest of you. Once the time leak's fixed people tend to forget what happened while it was there. Not completely, it'll just become hazy and hard to grasp hold of. That's what happened to you," she finished, and Jane was reminded once again of the Mary Poppins from her youth who'd always had all the answers. That's why she'd come to find her, she would know what to do about the rage and sadness that boiled within her even now._

_ "Mary, do you know how to fix me?" she asked, all of a sudden. She knew she should perhaps wait until they were alone, but she didn't know how much time she had here, and she desperately needed this woman's advice._

_ "Oh, Jane, I can't fix you. Nobody can do that but you. But I can tell you one thing. It's always better to keep active. Haven't you been doing better in the last few hours, look, you've been all the way to London, and you've even smiled once or twice, don't pretend you didn't." Jane nodded sheepishly, she had been doing better, maybe it really wasn't a bad idea to get out of her house more. "But I do know how hard such separations can be," continued her ex-nanny, "and I think you might need a bit more exposure than most. You will travel with the Doctor for a year, then, just to get a fresh perspective on things. It will do you marvelous good, don't you worry."_

_ "She's right, you know," nodded Bert. "You'll be fantastic. I would know, I was there."_

_ She turned to the Doctor, who was doing his peering thing yet again. "Oh would you knock that off?" she asked, exasperated. "I've been all over today, in the past and the present and not to mention two places at once, the last thing I need is some man in a peculiar little hat making funny eyes at me as if it will tell him the secrets of the world-" she stopped, abashed. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to snap it's just it's been such an odd day, and-"_

_ The Doctor smiled at her, then looked back to Mary Poppins. "She'll do quite nicely, won't she?" He asked._

_ "Yes, she did," replied his human-form TARDIS, smiling sadly at him. "I'm afraid you have to go now, Doctor, the children are about to come back and the last thing we need is for Jane to meet herself here."_

_ "Oh. Oh, yes, well then, we should be off, shouldn't we. Come along, Jane," he said, and as she followed him back to the blue police box he seemed to regain some of the bounce and brilliant control he'd exhibited at their first meeting in the hallway. He paused when they were nearly to the door, hand hovering just above the handle. "Good bye, Mary Poppins," he called back to the couple at the bench. "Don't be gone too long."_


End file.
